the pieces of my life

This week’s Slate Diary is the saddest thing I’ve read in the longest time.

Ugh, cookie dough and frosting for breakfast.

Mmmm, cookie dough and frosting for breakfast!

I really like it when people close to me call me Jen. It’s nice. I really hate it when strangers just automatically shorten my name to Jen. It creeps me out.

Okay, so I know that my novel is going to take place in an Internet retail office. I know it’s going to star an early thirtysomething woman who probably has brown hair, brown eyes, about oh, five four or so. But what happens to her? What’s her story? C’mon, guys, I need some good plot ideas. This isn’t cheating! I can’t write my novel with anyone, but I can certainly milk everyone for ideas. When my brilliant novel gets published, I will thank you profusely in the acknowledgments for your genius ideas, and I’ll even buy you a martini. Let’s hear it, folks. Give me some ideas!

I took a quick peek at Adam’s wish list, as he has a birthday coming up (yeah! on December 8th, he’ll finally be in his thirties, just like me!), and though he’s promised me a list of things he wants, he hasn’t yet done it (although I bet this weblog entry corrects that situation!). And lo and behold, what’s on his wish list? Books. Books as in a bound set of white pages with tiny black marks, which you need to spend considerable time staring at, turning pages, looking at more black marks on white pages to comprehend. Books as in the type of things you need to spend time (lots of time if you’re not a speed reader) reading. Um, hello? This is from the man who spends all of his weblog time bitching that he has too much work to do and way too much reading? This is from the man who has a stack of books yeah-high that he’s “going to get to?” The man is a junkie. He must be stopped! Anyone who sends him books is merely an enabler. Don’t do it, man! You want to send Adam something, send him drugs, send him booze, send him tobacco! But friends don’t let Adam read books.

No, this is not a critique on the horrific Boston drivers (although, really, can enough ever be said?). This is an acknowledgement of my own dangerous driving. Today was a blissfully traffic-free day. So la-la-la I’m driving to work. I’ve got some Kanda Bongo Man playing on the c.d. I’m obsessing about that fact that while I may have an idea for my novel, I don’t actually have any semblance of a plot. And I realize, I’ve driven about three and a half miles and I have no recollection of getting from point A to point B. It’s like I just tune out while I’m behind the wheel, and I start daydreaming about anything from my plot to take over the world [doh! I said plot even though I’ve already admitted I have no plot!] to what I’m going to have for dinner to wondering if I really like this new shade of hair color I picked out (it’s more dark brown, with not many hints of red. Nothing drastic, but I’m still not convinced yet). When I realize that I have no idea how I got to wherever it is I am, I immediately wake up and pay attention to the road. Until the next thought enters my mind… I’m thinking this isn’t the safest way to drive, and if I weren’t so lazy, I should probably just take public transportation. This is why Adam always drives when we go anywhere together.

Does it make me a sick person that I want to be on Winona’s jury?

A quote from long ago Winona (from the IMDb): “I read biographies of the greats, and they were so messed up that I thought I’d better mess myself up. But I couldn’t. I’m too small.”

Girl, Interrupted, starring our favorite shoplifter:

Susanna: [narrating] Have you ever confused a dream with life? Or stolen something when you have the cash? Have you ever been blue? Or thought your train moving while sitting still? Maybe I was just crazy. Maybe it was the 60’s. Or maybe I was just a girl… interrupted.

This probably isn’t just a spoke in her menstrual cycle. (Name that movie. Not you, Mark). Why am I following this so closely? Maybe because it’s so much easier than reading about Moscow or Iraq or Israel or even our own gubernatorial race…